


To Be Wanted

by paradoxicalconverse



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Complete, Door Sex, F/F, Smut, anonymous tumblr prompt, just a lil one-shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 03:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14967701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradoxicalconverse/pseuds/paradoxicalconverse
Summary: Based on the anonymous Tumblr prompt: Wayhaught Smut Prompt: It’s late at night and Nicole is working the late shift when shit basically hits the fan (non supernatural). Waverly hears it all go down over the radio at the homestead and she is really freaking out. BUT eventually Nicole makes it back home, safe and sound, and Waverly can’t help but show her happiness (wink wink)





	To Be Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> for those of you that follow my other works, you've probably seen my interest in writing a Wayhaught HSAU. If that interests you, head over to my Tumblr and search "julia writes" for my tags. you should see a HSAU post where YOU GUYS get to decide what you want to see in the fic and it would really help me out! my Tumblr is please-say-nine.tumblr.com and I'd really love if you guys checked the fic idea out!
> 
> anyway. sorry this took so long @ my Tumblr anon to complete. Whoops. I am ALWAYS accepting prompts if there's ever something you want to see done!

For a few, blissful moments, Waverly can pretend.

She’s done it her entire childhood, fighting feigned monsters in the barn with a handful of imaginary characters in tow.

She can pretend that the sound of gunshots over the old radio in the Homestead have nothing to do with the fact that Nicole’s on patrol tonight and seems to attract bad news wherever she goes. (She may have majored in history with an emphasis in ancient languages, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t take advanced mechanical engineering to pass the time in between classes—hardwiring the radio in the Homestead to tune into the same frequency as Nicole’s police radio had been easier than memorizing all the latin roots for ‘stab’ anyway.)

She can almost pretend that Nicole probably isn’t even _around_ the gunshots, until she hears the unmistakable, “Shit!” in a voice that perfectly parallels her lovers; and then she can no longer pretend.

The radio only works one way and she knows better than to interfere with any of Nicole’s police raids, but her heart hammers to a stop in her chest as Nicole’s breathing becomes labored and then shuts off entirely as the line goes flat.

_Tea._ It’s more of mechanical movement than actual thought process that has her putting the kettle on and combing her fingers through her hair in anxiety, awaiting her return home.

Wynonna’s passed out in her room accompanied by a handle of jack and a mutter of, “Stupid shithead revenants,” but for a moment Waverly _seriously_ considers waking her up to go after Nicole. After all, she makes it fairly obvious that she has a big shiny gun every chance she gets.

She cradles her hand around her tea and pads back to the living room, preparing to sit in silence for however long it takes when the radio crackles again.

There’s a muffled communication and then Waverly’s limbs flood cold with relief when she hears Nicole’s voice answer, “10-4, just some drunk teenagers cow-tipping at the Gardeners.” There’s another unintelligible reply, to which Nicole responds with, “Airsoft gun. No one got hurt. Wrote a few tickets and sent them on their way.”

A weight she doesn’t realize she’s been harboring lifts off her shoulders at the idea that no one shot a gun at Nicole. A glance at the clock reveals something even better—she’s off her shift in ten minutes.

Despite Nicole’s assurances that she’ll wake Waverly up when she comes home from the night shift, she never sleeps, preferring to wait until Nicole’s presence graces her again.

It does, twenty minutes later, as the front door creaks open and the sound of heavy boots pervade the soft silence of the Homestead. There’s a shuffle as Nicole relieves herself of her jacket to the coat rack then runs her hand through her mussed hair and makes for the staircase.

“I didn’t think you’d still be awake,” Nicole says as she enters Waverly’s room, surprised to see the light still on, when she’s met with Waverly barrelling towards her and pushing her up against the wall.

“Hi,” Waverly breathes against her neck, reveling in the smattering of goosebumps it creates.

“Baby, what—”

“Shh,” Waverly whispers as she kneads her fingers into Nicole’s arms and leans her weight up against her. She barely comes up to Nicole’s eyeline, but it’s the perfect height to run her lips over the nape of Nicole’s neck and smooth her tongue across protruded collar bones. “I heard gunshots over the radio—I was worried sick about you.”

“You heard me over the radio?”

_Not the time, Haught_ , Waverly thinks, then reroutes her train of thought back to her original plan. “You have a…penchant for attracting danger.” Her hands have traveled to the small of Nicole’s back and her thumbs trace circles into her sides—it’s a sensitive motion she’s just learned about in Nicole, who melts into her touch.

“And so you are…”

“Showing you how _appreciative_ I am that you’re home safe,” Waverly purrs.

Well. Nicole certainly isn’t going to argue with that. She’s ready for Waverly to lead her to the bed when dextrous fingers drop her belt onto the floor and push her uniform up over her ribs. “Waves?” she asks.

“Hmm,” Waverly hums, before sliding to her knees and pressing soft kisses into her stomach. _Oh_. The realization hits Nicole like a punch to the gut and a flood of wetness coats her inner thighs. _Waverly is going to take her on her knees_.

It’s not a position they’ve done before, but it’s certainly something she’s thought about (and gotten off to a variety of times), but it’s _so much better_ now that it’s actually happening. Waverly’s mouth connects with the apex of her thighs over her pants (no longer those damn khakis Nedley made her wear, thank god) and her eyes shift up for approval as her fingers work to pop the buttons and undo the zipper.

In confirmation, Nicole leans back up against the wall and juts her hips out to let Waverly slide her pants down her legs to rest at her knees. She wastes little time in what happens next, attaching her mouth over Nicole’s center and letting her tongue lap against her.

Nicole’s head falls back against the door with a crack and some mild pain she couldn’t give less of a shit about in the moment and her fingers fist into Waverly’s hair to pull her closer.

Waverly happily obliges, fingers finding purchase against her hips as she presses her tongue against Nicole’s clit. Nicole’s _close_ and it’s infuriatingly only been a minute or so, something wildly shorter than what her usually endurance is with Waverly, but the sight of her on her knees, buried up to her nose in between Nicole’s legs, has her coming over Waverly’s face before she can help herself.

Waverly pulls back a moment to breathe, a glistening sheen of wetness coated over her lips and mouth before smiling up at Nicole. “I was _so_ worried, baby,” she purrs, and Nicole feels her knees go weak again.

Surprisingly, she doesn’t make her way to her feet, instead moving her tongue back to its original position. “Baby,” Nicole murmurs, knowing she’s lost again as her fingers dig harder into Waverly’s scalp.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Waverly whispers, and then her tongue is moving again, absolutely _sinful_ in nature. A yelp pours from Nicole’s mouth before she can help herself and her hips cant against Waverly’s face, who hums in approval. “So worried,” she repeats, pulling back for a moment to breathe before diving back in. “So thankful you’re home safe.”

Nicole hisses and wraps her hand around the back of Waverly’s neck. Her next orgasm is close, a burning coil of want settling in the pit of her stomach. Then Waverly’s presses a finger against her, _inside_ her, and Nicole’s knees buckle as her orgasm fans out against her.

She’s vaguely aware that Waverly is still working her fingers inside her and her tongue is still rolling against her clit, but it takes the majority of her energy into focusing on not _screaming_ as her fingers dig harder into Waverly’s hair and _pull._

“I’m here, baby, I’m here,” Waverly murmurs as Nicole comes down from her high. She makes her way to the bed on jellied legs with help from Waverly.

“Shit,” Nicole laughs when Waverly’s curled up against her chest and her breathing has evened out. “Maybe I should scare you more often if that’s going to be how you thank me for coming home safe.”

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Waverly hisses, and despite her faux-anger, Nicole can’t help but revel in how good it feels to be wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave kudos/comments if ya liked it!


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